My scars are perfectly hidden for a night out in public and my dark thoughts are pushed far enough back in my mind that I do believe I’ll have a rather pleasant evening. No one sees the real me because that’s how I like it. What’s the point of masks if you can’t use them to your advantage?
I know immediately when she enters the room, even from twenty feet away, halfway through my second bottle of beer and with some chick whose name I forgot as soon as she said it prattling in my ear.
Christina? Melissa?
“It was nice talking to you, Melissa,” I tell her with a smile as I turn and walk away from her.
“It’s Clarissa!” she shouts angrily to my retreating back.
Oops.
I bump into people standing around staring at artwork and don’t even apologize. My eyes are glued on the woman who stands by the door, bringing a glass of champagne up to her lips. I pause when she pulls the glass away and runs her tongue over her bottom lip. Memories from the night I spent in her bed overwhelm me, and my dick instantly hardens in my charcoal dress pants.
Lying on my stomach between her legs, I slid the black lace that covered her to the side and ran the tips of my fingers through her, spreading the wetness around. It was hard to take my eyes off of the gorgeous fucking sight spread out before me, but I wanted to see her. I wanted to see the effect of what I was doing to her written all over her face. I glanced up and our eyes met. Her cheeks were flushed with desire and her tongue darted out, wetting her full bottom lip.
Then I think about the guy who had his back resting against the headboard, holding her between his own legs and my dick instantly softens. As hot as that entire night was, I’m pissed off that I had to share her with anyone. I’d wanted that damn woman for as long as I could remember, and the only way I could have her is if someone else was there with us.
Her rules: Both men in the room at all times. If the lights stay on, so do her clothes and if the lights are off, her panties stay on but everything else could go. No passing her back and forth like a game of hot potato, and no penetration aside from a few fingers and one tongue. I needed a damn flow chart just to keep everything straight.
So many fucking rules to be with that woman it blew my goddamn mind, but I jumped at the chance to finally have her. Even after I had a taste of her, I was dying for a second.
And a third.
And a motherfucking fourth.
My hand clutches onto the bottle of beer in my hand so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter as I close the distance between us. She drains the rest of her champagne and holds the empty glass in front of her, lifting her chin along with one of her eyebrows when she sees me approaching, clearly gearing up for a fight.
That’s fine with me; I’m in the mood for a little fight. I’m pissed that I can’t get her out of my system and I’m pissed that she probably knows it.
“DJ, it’s nice to see you again,” Phina tells me with a smile.
The smile is fake and it makes me angrier. I have a vague recollection of her giving me a few genuine smiles back in the day when we were in high school, young and most definitely dumb, and this is not one of those. There are no crinkles around the corners of her eyes and fuck if those green orbs don’t get darker as they stare me down instead of getting brighter. The smile is closer to a smirk, like she’s mocking me.
“Nice to see you again, too, Fireball,” I tell her with a tip of my bottle in her direction. “The dress is a nice touch, but you look much better half-naked, screaming my name.”
That stupid smirk falls as I bring the bottle to my lips and tip it back, letting the cold microbrew chill me the fuck out. This woman has gotten under my skin and I feel like it’s only right to repay her in kind. She hates it that I’ve given her a nickname, and told me repeatedly over the last few weeks to stop saying it. She should have realized that only makes me want to do it more, just to piss her off. I still remember that day in high school when she moved to town and told the entire fucking class off after they laughed at her name.
She was full of fire and piss and vinegar even back then. Now all of that fire is intermingled with something dark and twisted. It should make me want to run in the opposite direction, but I’m a fireman. We like to race right into the flames, not giving a shit if we got burned. Something tells me if I spend any more time with Phina, she’s going to leave me with more than a few scars.
She takes a step closer to me and I inhale the spicy perfume she wears as she lowers her voice to speak to me. “It’s so cute how you seem to be forgetting the fact that I brought you to your knees. Literally.”
Her hot mouth wrapped around the tip of my cock and she leaned forward, taking all of me at once. My legs gave out and I sunk to the floor of her bedroom, her body following mine and her lips and tongue never stopping as I dropped to my knees.